


The Unnamed

by Cyriusli



Series: Guardian Angel [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyriusli/pseuds/Cyriusli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji knew it was bound to happen.<br/>Eventually they would get into a fight and Zoro was going to get hurt. He was no longer in a position to stop the untimely death of the other man being mortal now, so what did that leave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unnamed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kimberly Marandola](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kimberly+Marandola).
  * Inspired by [Guardian Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184212) by [Cyriusli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyriusli/pseuds/Cyriusli). 



> A short story for mischiefmanagged of Tumblr for my hitting 200 followers.

Sanji knew it was bound to happen.

Eventually they would get into a fight and Zoro was going to get hurt. He was no longer in a position to stop the untimely death of the other man, but it still hurt just the same to see that moment when it came. The two had managed to come to some sort of understanding after that day in the field and despite Zoro knowing how Sanji felt about him, the other man hadn’t built any walls against him.

The day to day was still the same. They fought, slung insults at one another and Zoro bitched about Sanji smoking to the same degree Sanji bitched about him drinking. If occasionally, when the two drew back to back watches, they would sit either in the kitchen or on deck and actually hold civil conversations with one another, they didn’t speak about them afterwards. They didn’t need to however, as the two men had become a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. That was the one place they fell into a harmony, backing one another without question or hesitation; able to read one another’s mind and come up with combination moves the rest of the crew would talk about for hours afterwards.

That was how Sanji found himself with a hand pressed to his shoulder from the bullet wound, glaring up into the golden eyes of the man before him. His arm hung limp at his side as blood welled between his fingers. He knew, without even needing to look, the bullet had shattered bone and he would once again be cooking single handedly. All that faded away however as he watched Zoro reel next to him, that one gray eye locking onto his before he coughed up blood and fell to his knees. Blood erupted from a wound in his chest, soaking his overcoat and coating his chest in a thick shine of crimson.

Everything was happening so fast around them, but as Sanji tried to scrabble to his feet to get to the marimo, he paused as the rush of wings sounded in his ears. “Who the fuck are you?” He growled out to the new comer. Golden cropped hair gleamed in the sun, making the tanned skin almost seem to have a warm glow and giving the other man a truly otherworldly appearance. He’d heard of this, but he’d never actually seen it.

Even that bit of knowledge seemed to become meaningless as something itched at the back of his brain. Something wasn’t right about this. Something was beyond even him. The one glaring back at Sanji with two eyes instead of one looked exactly like the man the blond had fallen for, in more ways than one and making Sanji question his own sanity as not only human, but angel as well.

At his feet, Zoro was barely supporting his weight on hands and knees, breaths ragged and shallow as he gasped in an attempt to inhale before coughing once more, blood littering the dirt between his hands. The man above him winced at the action and Sanji knew without a doubt it was an angel. He’d known before that pivotal moment, but that had certainly confirmed his suspicion. He couldn’t help the sneer that tugged at his lips. The raging sound of the blood around them must have been pounding in the angel’s ears.

“I am the Unnamed,” the golden eyed angel answered, tipping his head to glare down at Sanji once more. “I am the one who took you when you fell. And now,” he started, looking down to Zoro. “I am here for him. Here to clean up your mess.” Brilliant wings unfurled as he spoke, the white of the feathers almost blinding and Sanji had to close his eyes against it for a moment as he turned his head. Looking back, his eyes widened at the massive wing span. Flight feathers were spread and the wing arms were held out to full length as if the Unnamed were going to take flight at any moment. If Sanji was truly honest with himself, it put his own impressive wing span to shame.

“No.” Sanji’s eyes traveled over the appendages as the word slipped from his mouth. The muscles of his back twitched as a growl left his throat and he wanted nothing more to stand and raise his own wings threateningly. This was his mortal and no one was going to take Zoro from him.

“No?” Raising an eyebrow, a smirk passed over the angel’s face. “And what are you going to do to stop me? You, who are now nothing more than a mere mortal.” Scoffing at Sanji, the Unnamed raised a foot to toe at Zoro’s leg, eyes gleaming with a thirst to kill that was as powerful as the swordsman’s, if not more so. “What powers do you have to save this dying man?”

“He’s mine.” Sanji growled out, shakily getting to his feet and squaring his shoulders as best he could. There was a snort of laughter from the angel before he tipped his head to the side and gave Sanji a feral grin.

“He’s not.” The feathers of his wings flicked slightly, drawing Sanji’s attention to them once again. As he watched the tips of the long pure feathers turned red, as if they had been dipped in blood. The shaft of each feather seemed to fill with the same dark shade, giving the once white wings a sickly damaged appearance. He swore he actually saw blood drip from the tips of the long outer flight feathers and that’s when Sanji realized he was dealing with something far more powerful than he originally thought.

“Let me tell you something,” The Unnamed met Sanji’s eye and held his gaze, the dying swordsman forgotten between their feet. “Reaper Angels like you know nothing. Mortals who were given a second chance at something great.”

“What are you talking about?” Sanji snarled at him, glancing down to Zoro and feeling his heart drop into his stomach as the marimo struggled to breathe. He wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees beside him, to make the pain go away and save him. Or, at the very least, be at his side so the man didn’t die alone in the dirt like some discarded piece of trash.

“You are wasting my time Sanji.” The Unnamed shook his head. “Green though, of all colors.” Rolling his eyes, the blood stricken wings drew back, peaking over the angel’s head as Sanji himself had done time and time again, before the Unnamed crouched over Zoro’s form. “When Father created these things, we were also given the chance to have one modeled in our own image. Angels on the mortal plane, he said.”

Reaching out, the angel grasped hold of Zoro’s hair, lifting his head. Slowly that one eye eased open meeting Sanji’s own as he looked on helplessly. There was no way he could save the swordsman and he knew it. Zoro must have known it as well as he coughed again, closing his eye and not even bothering to fight the grip in his hair.

“It’s funny in a way. I was the one who collected your soul in the beginning. I was the one who gave you everlasting life and you chose to fall for an almost perfect copy of myself. Not that you remembered who I was.”

“Zoro is nothing like you.” Sanji hissed out, but even he couldn’t deny the fact that angel and mortal shared the same features; the same tanned skin and the same deep baritone voice. But that was all. Zoro was living and breathing, warm to the touch with rushing blood in his veins. The Unnamed was dead inside, same as he had been. No heartbeat and cold as ice.

“Now, not so much, but in the times of the Angel Wars, very much so. I wielded great power, same as he and I killed with the same blood lust as he does now. Cruel. Calculating. Relentless.” Looking up to Sanji, the Unnamed tipped his head to the side and narrowed his eyes slightly. “What made you fall in love with him?”

“He’s human.” Sanji whispered, taken aback by the bizarre question. It came from left field, much the same as Zoro would do to him when they would actually hold conversations. Then his whole body jerked and he snapped the hand of his wounded arm into a fist. “Heal him! You are not taking him.”

“Oh? And why not? He doesn’t love you, nor will he ever love you.”

“That doesn’t matter to me anymore.” Sanji shook his head and snapped his eyes shut, needing to block out the sight of how carelessly this angel held Zoro in his grasp. He’d been wrong to toy with him all those times before and even though it had been pointed out to him, only now did Sanji truly see it for what it had been. Angels were cruel and their games were simply to amuse themselves with the folly of mortals.

The Unnamed let go of Zoro’s hair and the swordsman collapsed into a heap on the ground. The low groan he gave made Sanji look down to him, but he was drawn to the piercing golden gaze of the angel. “And what will you give me in return?”

“That’s not how it works.” Sanji snarled at the angel. “Do  something !”

The Unnamed laughed, throwing his head back and letting the same carefree sound as Zoro made travel passed his lips. “That’s not how it works for Reapers; no. I am no Reaper though and I will take something in return for this pathetic mortal’s life.”

“Zoro’s not―” Sanji stopped himself, biting his tongue and tasting blood. The Unnamed raised an eyebrow at him, his wings flicking against his back as he folded them to his sides. Blood dripped to the ground, mixing with the dirt at the angel’s heels as he stood. Swearing under his breath, Sanji forced himself to stand square. In his mind’s eye he could picture his wings, full and black, as he spread them to their full length against this higher angel than himself. “What do you want?”

“Heh,” The golden eyes flashed as the Unnamed crossed his arms and smirked. “Now we’re talking.”


	2. Defiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be a one shot. Then I got talking to a friend of mine and we plotted out a story line. I am going to tackle this the same way I did GA however, so you will get bursts of 2-3 chapters at a shot then possibly not see anything for a while. IDK, it just seems to work for this alternate timeline.
> 
> This is also going to be the opposite of GA. Where as there I wrote 2 chapters from Zoro's PoV then one from Sanji's, I am doing the other way around. There will generally be 2 from Sanji's PoV and one from Zoro's instead.

Zoro stopped breathing.

Sanji felt the life leave the other man’s body as he glared up at the angel towering over him. Purebloods, manifested into existence and so much more powerful than Sanji had ever hoped or dreamed of being. “What do you want?” He bit out again through clenched teeth. Every moment that passed now was crucial, with each ticking second Zoro’s soul, his essence, his very being, slipped farther and farther away and before long there would be nothing that either of them could do.

Not that Sanji could do anything anyway.

The Unnamed flicked his wings, blood splattering the ground as he carelessly stepped over the swordsman’s unmoving form closer to the blond. Sanji fought the urge to step back, instead tipping his head up to maintain his glare. “I’m going to take what’s most precious to you. Well, besides this mortal that is. If you want him, than I want what you value the most.”

Sanji laughed, he couldn’t help it. “Yeah right. I have nothing anymore.”

“Oh, but you do.” The angel grinned at him, sinister and feral, making the chef’s blood run cold. He didn’t have time to react as a hand snapped out, grabbing him by the chin and forcing Sanji’s head back even more. Those gold eyes flashed dangerously as he chuckled lowly. “I’d tell you this isn’t going to hurt, but it will and I am going to enjoy every moment of it.”

The angel’s other hand snapped into his hair, holding Sanji in place as the hand around his chin pried his jaw open. He tried to swallow but his mouth and throat were dry. The chef never broke eye contact however, even as a humming heat began to build in the Unnamed hands and the angel’s thumb worked its way into his mouth, keeping his jaw open and pressing down on his tongue. “Stubborn till the very end, aren’t you?”

Sanji grunted at him, even as his mind began to panic with what was happening here. A searing pain filled the chef’s head and he snapped his eyes shut as he bit down, darkness taking hold of him almost instantly.

* * *

He woke with a gasp, sitting upright and looking around. Chopper turned to him, ears swiveled at him, a thermometer halfway to Zoro’s open mouth. “Sanji!” The little doctor wailed, jumping down from his stool and running over to him. “You’re awake! You just wouldn’t wake up and I couldn’t find anything wrong with you. No concussion, no injuries...well, you had a few minor cuts and the bullet wound, but nothing that would cause you any type of unwakeable state! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Are you hurting anywhere?”

Sanji kept his gaze on the swordsman, who was looking back at him calmly before he shook his head. “No, I feel fine Chopper.” His hand went to his shoulder, where Sanji was expecting there to be more damage than there appeared to be. What exactly had happened after he passed out?

“Chopper.” Zoro cut in, voice steady and firm; alive. The reindeer turned back to the swordsman as Sanji tried to wet his mouth. His throat and tongue felt dry and he ran his tongue over his teeth, licking at his lips. “Leave us alone for a minute, would ya?”

“Uh, yeah, sure Zoro. Just don’t get up yet you two! I mean it!” Pointing at them both and putting on his best little glare, he left the room, the door closing with a soft click.

“Cook,” Zoro started, instantly getting up and grabbing at the glass of water that was on the desk. Sanji hadn’t even seen it till now and gladly took it when the swordsman offered as he sat on the edge of his cot. They still fought and argued, but they had grown in their relationship and were able to converse peacefully now, even if it was usually when no one else was around. Appearances to uphold and all that. Not that the rest of the crew didn’t know anyways. “What happened out there? I swear I saw—”

“You did,” Sanji cut him off, tipping the glass to his mouth. “He called himself the Unnamed, but I doubt that’s really true.” Shrugging, he set the glass aside on the small table, dropping his hands to his lap. Narrowing his eyes at his hands, he thought back to what the angel had said. He was going to take away what Sanji held most dear, yet he still had his hands. And clearly Zoro was sitting beside him.

Closing his eyes, the chef inhaled deeply through his nose. He could hear the blood rushing through his body and feel the warmth of his skin. Next to him, Zoro was just the same. The swordsman was alive, he was alive; this wasn’t a dream. Sanji lifted his arm, but stopped. He wanted to reach out and touch the swordsman, but he knew he really shouldn’t.

“I don’t know what happened out there, but I’m sure I have you to thank for it, don’t I?” The swordsman rested his forearms on his knees and sighed through his nose as he looked at the floorboards. “Why am I able to remember and see angels too?”

“That’s most likely my fault.” Sanji shrugged, throwing the covers aside and setting his barefeet on the floor. “I’m sure with all the times I let you see me like I did, you just grew accustomed to the energy. Or it’s that  _ thing _ you carry at your side.” He jerked his head in the direction of where Zoro’s katana lay propped against the wall. Even now, even after all this time, he could still feel the cursed blade thirsting for his blood.

Standing, Sanji didn’t give Zoro a chance to answer, not that the other man was going to. He simply grunted with a nod, keeping his eyes on the floor as Sanji picked up his jacket and shoes, walking toward the door that lead to the galley.

The room was dark and Sanji sighed, running a hand through his hair. Retrieving his cigarettes from his suit jacket, he walked across the floor toward the other door and opened it, stepping out onto the deck above the lawn. Luffy and the others were all about, laughing and joking. Everyone seemed okay after the fight and clearly unaware of what had happened to him and the swordsman. It was most likely for the better anyway.

Sanji stayed in the doorway, leaning against the frame and not feeling up to interacting with his crew quite yet as he mulled over what had happened. What exactly had the Unnamed taken from him in exchange for Zoro’s life? Lighting his cigarette, he inhaled deeply, coughing as he did so. That was odd, but then again, given the fact the angel had done whatever based around his mouth, it wasn’t surprising.

Sanji raised his own hand to rub at his jaw. No one mentioned any type of bruising, but there may not have been any either. Dropping his arms to his side, the chef cleared his throat and swallowed carefully. His throat still felt dry as he pulled in a second lungful of smoke, exhaling in a smoother fashion this time around.

Much better.

Turning, cigarette perched on his lip, Sanji set about cooking...something, anything; he just needed his mind off that battle and encounter. Chopper appeared at one point, yelling at him about being up and about, but Sanji had given him a small snack and sent the reindeer on his way.

Needing something hearty but simple, Sanji decided to make chili, settling at the counter as it simmered away. He kept his mind carefully blank, tonguing at an unlit cigarette as he flipped through one of his cookbooks and checked his storage list against possible ingredients and meal ideas.

Getting up a little while later, he plucked a spoon from the drawer with one hand while stirring dinner with the other. It smelled amazing, but that was no surprise and he dipped the spoon into the pot to test the taste. Gently blowing on the mouthful of food, Sanji popped the spoon into his mouth and promptly spit the chili into the sink.

“What the fuck?” Zoro’s voice rose over his own exclamation as he stared at the bottom of the sink. “Did you just spit out food Cook?” The closing of the infirmary door sounded loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

“I— ” Sanji started, dropping that spoon into the sink and grabbing another to try again. It had to be a mistake. Zoro wandered over to stand near him as Sanji pulled his cigarette from his mouth and tried a taste of the chili again. He cringed, but managed to swallow this time as he was expecting the foul taste to meet his pallet. “This tastes like shit.”

“You’re fucking joking.” The swordsman actually laughed at him, making Sanji narrow his gaze at the other man.

“I would never joke about food and you know it. I don’t understand. Here!” Taking a third spoon now, Sanji dipped it into the chili and held it out to Zoro. The other man scrunched his nose, looking from the offered mouthful of food to Sanji and back. “It’s not poisoned Zoro.”

“You said it tasted like shit.” He shot back, but none the less, he took the offered spoon and carefully popped it into his mouth. “No,” he said a second later, sucking the spoon clean as he pulled it free. “Tastes fine. Well, your food always tastes like shit, but this isn’t any shittier than normal.”

“I’m being fucking serious asshole!” Sanji barked. What the hell was going on? He tried a third time, with the same results. The chili tasted burnt, like ash in his mou— “No.”

The spoon slipped from his fingers to clatter to the floor as he looked wide eyed at the swordsman. “What?” Zoro grunted out, actually bending down to pick up the spoon and tossing that one and his own in the sink. “Shit, Cook, you look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Are those real too? I mean, fuck,” The swordsman looked over his shoulder about the galley. “Anything is possible right, angels and cursed swords and shit.”

“Ghosts are real,” Sanji spoke mindlessly, unable to pull his eyes from Zoro’s profile. “He— I know what he did.”

Sanji bolted from the kitchen, making a dash for the mens’ bunkroom and the mirror that hung along the wall. “Sanji!” Zoro called after him and the blond could hear the other man following. He didn’t care right now, he needed to see. Needed to know; needed to confirm what he thought had happened.

He let out a dry laugh as he entered the dark room, flicking on a light.  _ I’m going to take what’s most precious to you.  _ That’s what the Unnamed had said. And that’s what the Unnamed had done. Slamming his hands against the wall on either side of the full length mirror, Sanji stuck his tongue out, confirmation flickering in his eyes. There, burned into the center of his tongue, was a black thumb print.

The oval shape was intricate in nature and if Sanji looked closely, he could actually see the swirling pattern of a thumb print. It sort of looked similar to a tattoo, but the chef knew it wasn’t. It was an angelic curse mark.

“Son of a bitch!”


	3. Synergy

“Son of a bitch!” Sanji’s voice echoed around the bunkroom and Zoro was shocked to see him actually slam a fist against the wall.

He wasn't sure he really wanted to approach the other man, but he knew this was partly his fault….whatever it was. Quietly, Zoro turned and locked the door behind him before crossing his arms and squaring his feet. “What did you do?”

Sanji stared at him wide eyed. He almost looked scared, terrified even and the swordsman was sure he'd never seen that look on his face before. He and Sanji had gone through a lot, both with him as a human and angel, but even when Zoro had killed him, Sanji had never looked afraid.

He didn't like it.

“Sanji,” he growled out, taking a step deeper into the bunkroom. “What did you do?”

“I brought you back.” He mumbled quietly. “I made a deal and I brought you back.”

“Why? If it was my time then so be it.” The blond shook his head, refusing to meet Zoro’s gaze. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “Why Cook?”

“I— ” he started, but stopped, swallowing roughly and shaking his head. “It doesn't matter,” he whispered quietly. “You're alive.”

“It does matter Cook! You're not an angel anymore. You can't just go doing these things.” The hell was wrong with Sanji? They'd talked about how he was mortal now; how he lived and died same as Zoro and the rest of the crew. So what was he thinking behind sacrificing himself for Zoro’s sake. The swordsman growled, making his way across the room and slamming Sanji against the wall. “You better fucking answer me Sanji. I didn't want you meddling in my life when it was your job, I don't want you doing it now! Why?” He was yelling, he knew, but Zoro didn’t care.

Sanji bowed his head hiding behind his stupid bangs. “Because I love you.” His voice was low, almost too quiet to hear. “That hasn't changed and I couldn't stand there and let you die. Not with the way he was treating you.”

Zoro clicked his tongue and let Sanji go. The blond still wasn't meeting his eye and it made Zoro sigh and run a hand through his hair. “All right,” he started quietly. Shitty blond. Of course it would have come down to that. The fact that, he, Zoro, was the blond’s weakness annoyed him and no matter how many times they had talked about it, Sanji refused to change his mind. “What’d he do or take or whatever.”

It had taken time but Zoro had eventually been able to come to terms with the fact Sanji was in love with him. It had scared and angered him, he could admit it now, the day he'd been approached by the angel in the field. And that anger at himself had carried him and fueled his rage at Sanji for a long time. Since then, the two had been able to work through it, both of them making sacrifices for it.

Zoro didn't return the blond’s love, nor would he ever, but he had accepted it and had been able to move on. Sanji had done the same, mostly. He loved Zoro deeply, but he kept it to himself for the most part and hadn't ever tried to force a relationship between them. Hell, the two had grown comfortable enough with one another that occasionally Sanji would lean over and rest his head on Zoro’s shoulder or, even more rarely, would peck him on the cheek before walking away. Zoro surprisingly found himself okay with both of those actions. It gave Sanji comfort and it was an acceptance for them both.

“The one thing that was more important than my hands or even you. He took my sense of taste.” Sanji finally lifted his head, a pained look on his face. He stuck his tongue out at Zoro and the swordsman was able to see a black mark on the other man's tongue. “It's a curse mark,” he kept on, shrugging slightly. “Payment for bringing your soul back.”

“Back?” Zoro found himself watching Sanji’s mouth as it drew into a frown. “I died?”

“Yeah,” Sanji nodded slowly. “I'm sorry Zoro.”

Zoro inhaled deeply, rubbing at the back of his neck and dropping his gaze to the ground in thought. The two were quiet for a couple minutes, the longer the silence stretched out though, the tenser the room seemed to grow. The chef leaned back against the wall with a loud groan, scrubbing at his face with both hands. “I just couldn’t let you die like that. Not by something so stupid.”

“Don’t do it again.” Zoro lifted his head, meeting Sanji’s eye.

“You know I can’t promise you that.” The blond shook his head, making Zoro frown. Yeah, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from trying to get Sanji to actually stop worrying about him. “I meant I was sorry for putting you in that position. I used you in a bargain I had no right to.”

Zoro scoffed. “Well, I’m still here to give you shit about it. What does this mean though?” He brought the conversation back to the weird mark on the blond’s tongue. The other man claimed he was cursed now. Did that mean he was like Kitetsu? Or was it something else? “That angel took away your ability to taste?”

“Apparently. That chili literally tasted like ash, burnt beyond edible. We should— I should get back to the kitchen also.” The chef paused, biting at his lip as if he wanted to say something before he stepped past him to walk across the room, slightly dragging his heels as he did so. Zoro knew the moment he unlocked that door however, that smile would be back in place and he would act like nothing was amiss.

He didn’t attempt to follow, simply watching as Sanji slipped from the room and Luffy’s voice rang out across the deck. Sighing, Zoro moved over to the couch, dropping heavily onto it and groaning into his hands as he scrubbed at his face. The swordsman had thought that with Sanji now being human, with them having worked through the shit that had arose when he’d stabbed the blond that day sparring, that things would finally be some sort of normal.

And well, for a while, he guessed it had been, if he could count how close the two had grown, as normal. Sanji had certainly gone from annoying angelic asshole to crewmate to friend to best friend, which made the rest of the crew happy as well. Yeah, they still sparred and spat insults at one another, but it was clear it was in a joking manner now unlike before.

This left Zoro with a want to try to do something for Sanji, but he wasn’t sure what he could do. Yeah, he could cook, but not like the blond and there honestly was no way that he’d be allowed into the cook’s domain with free reign like that. No, as long as Sanji was able to stand he would try to cook and try to provide for the crew.

So what could he do to help him, yet still keep the fact that Sanji once possessed angelic powers a secret from the crew? Zoro hadn’t liked that idea at first, there were no secrets within the Strawhats, but as he thought more about it, and how hard it had been for him to really accept it as a reality, the swordsman knew that would have to be the case.

The door banged open, pulling hims from his thoughts as Usopp called him for lunch. Getting up Zoro followed the sniper toward the galley, trying to keep his expression neutral and not let on that he was even slightly concerned about his blond crewmate.

Besides, he didn’t think Sanji would really want him to show concern for him anyway.


	4. Comaraderie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied, this one is from Zoro's PoV as well. It just fit better I think than having it from Sanji's. Oh well...

The scene that met Zoro was typical of any meal with the crew. There was yelling and laughing and the clacking of dishes and more yelling. He slipped into his seat, instantly noticing Sanji’s almost panicked actions as he flitted about.

Finally he sat down in his spot across from Zoro, kicking him under the table as Zoro had a spoonful of the chili half way to his mouth. The blond gave a fleeting smile as he asked his question, but the swordsman knew Sanji was really speaking to him. “How’s it taste?”

The question in and of itself wasn’t abnormal to hear. Sanji would ask that at every meal, but with the way his eyes scrunched just slightly as if fearing the worse, this was by far the weirdest question he’d ever asked.

The crew’s exclamations of enjoyment and praise sounded all around them, but Zoro simply grunted as he reached out for a hunk of bread from the basket on the table. “Well?” The blond asked, pinning Zoro in his spot with his eyes. There was a longing in the blue iris he could see, a hopefulness that Zoro really understood what Sanji was after and he couldn’t help the smirk. “Tastes like shit Cook.”

Clicking his tongue, Sanji narrowed his eyes at him. The blond still hadn’t taken a bite to eat, for sure trying to work up the schooled expression before he did so. “You got dish duty for that asshole.”

“Whatever,” Zoro mumbled, ripping a bite from his bread and popping it into his mouth. Like he really cared anyway, he knew how it would go down. Sanji would end up doing it himself while Zoro sat at the counter and they talked.

Lunch ran its normal course after that, but if Zoro kept a closer eye on whether Sanji was eating or not, he certainly didn’t show it. Sanji ate a little, but not as much as he normally did, which wasn’t all that surprising to him given his claim from the mark on his tongue. The rest of the crew also seemed unaware, but he caught Robin’s eyes at one point and she simply raised a brow at him with that creepy little smile of hers. He was sure she knew something was up, nothing got passed her, but if it was really about Sanji and his curse or not, Zoro couldn’t say.

Zoro stayed in his spot till the last of the crew left, watching as the galley door closed with a click. Then he got up, picking up his bowl and what was left of the bread off the table. “Cook,” he started, walking around the counter and actually into the other man’s space as he set the bread aside and dropped his bowl into the sink. “You didn’t really eat.”

Sanji shrugged. “If this is as permanent as it seems, it’s going to take a few meals for me to really get over not being able to taste anything properly.” He picked up his lighter, as if he wanted to light the cigarette he had placed in his mouth while talking, before sighing and throwing it back to the counter and giving a dry laugh. “Even these taste like shit.”

“Those always smelled like shit, so I’m not going to complain about you not smoking.”

“Fuck off Marimo.” Sanji hissed at him, but it lacked the normal biting tone. Sanji just looked tired suddenly. This had to be weighing on him heavily.

“Hey,” the swordsman started, moving back to the table to collect more dishes. Behind him, he could hear the blond start the water in the sink. Zoro paused as he mulled this over for the final time. He’d been thinking about it all through lunch and was pretty sure of his suggestion. Sanji, however, and his answer would be a different story. “If you want, I can help.”

“Why do you think you are here idiot moss.” Sanji scoffed behind him and Zoro looked over his shoulder for a moment as he picked up the last dish.

“No,” he shook his head, moving back to the sinks and setting his stack of bowls and silverware on the counter to begin placing them in the sink one by one. “I meant while you cook.”

Sanji burst out laughing at him, throwing his head back and tears coming to the corners of his eyes. Frowning and crossing his arms, Zoro let him be, waiting for him to calm down and finally he did, exhaling a deep sigh and clamping a hand onto Zoro’s shoulder. “Ah, I needed that, thanks. But seriously, what help could you possibly be in here to me? You get in my way while washing dishes, how could you help me while I cook?”

Shrugging, Zoro pushed Sanji out of the way and started with washing the bowls. He, for once, actually felt like helping. Maybe it was all Sanji had been through for his sake that day, who the hell really knew. Keeping his eyes on the soapy water, the swordsman mumbled out quietly: “I can still taste your shitty cooking.”

“Hey, now,” the chef barked. “My cooking is not shit!”

“Sanji,” Zoro started and that made the blond snap his jaw shut as he stared at him. “We both know that if you really lost your sense of taste you got shit lucky with lunch. I have watched you cook, I know how important testing flavors is to you. How are you going to do that when you can’t actually taste it? And if your cooking goes to literal shit, the crew will want to know and then your little angel secret is out. Do you want that?”

The chef’s eyes fell to the floor and he shook his head as he bit at his lip. “Shit!” Pulling at his hair, he stomped a foot and leaned against the counter as he crossed his arms. Looking over at Zoro, Sanji sighed heavily. “You suddenly spending a ton of time in here is going to raise eyebrows, you know that too.”

“The whole crew knows we are capable of getting along, I don’t think it would be a far stretch if you and I started spending a bit more time together. Hell, make something up if it makes you feel better.”

Sanji smirked. “Like you lost a bet and are my kitchen bitch for the next month.”

Zoro scowled, raising his hand and flicking soapy water at the blond. “Fuck you!”

Sanji simply laughed at him, finally reaching for his lighter and lighting his cigarette. Zoro could feel the tension leave the air as Sanji exhaled that first cloud of smoke. “Yeah,” he drawled. “We could do that, see how it goes. I don’t plan on living with this though. We will see him again, I know we will.” Reaching his hand out, he pointed to Kitetsu, finger tip just a breath away from touching the gold at the end of the hilt. “And when that time comes, this thing will come in handy.”

“Heh,” Zoro smirked, feeling the hum of the cursed blade run through his body. Even now, Kitetsu still sought out Sanji’s blood. Giving him the blood of an angel even more powerful than Sanji had been would sate the blade he hoped. “I like the way you think Cook.”

Sanji simply smirked back at him, the glint in his eye feral and mischievous.


End file.
